What Happens in Vegas
by Distant-Moon
Summary: When Rogue woke up one morning, she did not expect to find herself in Las Vegas, married to Remy LeBeau. She also didn't expect to be dragged into a world of organized crime. Will the X-Men save her in time? Does Rogue even want to be saved?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or anything related to it. Just read the damn story. ^-^**

* * *

**Chapter One: Waking Up in Vegas**

"Cherie? Come now, I need you to wake up."

Rogue grimaced in her sleep. That voice was so irritatingly familiar. It had been bugging her for the past couple of hours, but she was too exhausted to get up and investigate the cause of it. In her dreams, she kept hearing someone who sounded just like Remy LeBeau—that sneaky son of a gun. After they had parted in the swampy bayous of Louisiana, she had seen neither hide nor hair of him. Now he sounded closer than ever.

What the…?

Cracking open an eye, Rogue found herself staring a single bloodshot eye into the calm, collected gaze of the Gambit himself. There was a moment's silence as they looked at each other.

"Fuck this," she muttered and rolled over so that her back was facing Remy.

"Cherie," he tried again.

"Go away. Stay in my nightmares where you belong."

"I hate to disappoint you, but this isn't a dream."

Rogue scrunched up her brow. She was starting to feel uneasy in the pit of her stomach as a nagging suspicion possessed her. There was a possibility that Remy actually was hovering over her, that he had done the unthinkably stupid and kidnapped her. Again.

All of a sudden, his lips were at her ear. "This is very important, Rogue. I can't afford to continue being a gentleman if you insist on ignoring me."

"Go to hell. I don't feel good."

"Ah, I was afraid that would happen. You did have quite a lot to drink at the wedding."

That uneasy feeling returned, redoubled by Remy's cryptic statement. What wedding? What was he talking about? And more importantly, why did her head hurt so damn much?

As Rogue tried to surface any memories of the night before, she found herself drawing an enormous blank. _No, no, it'll all come back to me. I'm just tired, is all. This is just some stupid dream, and in a minute Logan is going to get on my case for sleeping in again._ But as the seconds ticked by on what sounded like an old-fashioned grandfather clock Rogue didn't remember having in her room, she realized that she couldn't remember anything at all.

Alarmed, she opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was that she was lying beneath a set of cardboard sheets that belonged to what was obviously a king-size bed. Rogue sat up, slowly, because her head felt as though someone had beaten it with a sledgehammer. Her hand clutched the temple of her forehead as she blinked bemusedly at the ornate furniture surrounding her. The room was completely unfamiliar to her.

"Where the hell am I?"

"Our suite," Remy replied.

Rogue nearly jumped out of her skin. She had forgotten that he was there. At the sound of his voice, she turned swiftly towards him and saw that there was an aggravatingly smug smile on his face as he stared at her—as though he found her sleep-tousled appearance endearing for some reason.

_Wait…why is he looking at me like that…?_

Looking down at herself, her eyes went wider than a set of dinner saucers. "W-what is this…?"

"Your dress."

"Um…pardon my French, but why am I in a fucking wedding dress?"

"Well," he said calmly, "is that not what a bride would wear to her wedding, Cherie?"

Her mouth went dryer than sandpaper—not that it made much of a difference. Her tongue already felt like a wad of cotton someone had stuffed in her jaw. Frantically, she tried to find evidence of falsification, but to her rising horror she saw a bridal veil on the floor by the bed. Even more disconcerting was the expensive-looking ring curled around her finger like an ostentatious gold snake. The diamond reflected a little of her dumbfounded expression back at her, mocking her.

Feeling on the verge of tears now—which, for Rogue, was saying quite a lot—she glared daggers at Remy.

"You have one minute to explain what happened last night before I beat the living snot out of you."

"I'm afraid that's going to have to wait."

"For what?" she demanded.

All of a sudden, there was a crisp knock on the door. Without preamble, Remy got up from the mattress and strode across the room. He took a moment to glance through the peephole.

"Who is it?"

"Room service," the bellboy replied. "We have the breakfast you ordered, Sir."

Remy's expression brightened. He opened the door and let the man in, giving him plenty of room to set up the vast, steaming tray of eggs, sausage, potatoes, and a number of other morning delicacies by the bed. Rogue's jaw dropped as the pleasing aroma reached her. She was so surprised that she didn't notice how amused Remy seemed to be by her reaction.

Taking advantage of her distraction, he quickly tipped the bellboy and showed him out of the room before locking the door. As the deadbolts slid into place, Rogue realized that she just missed out on the perfect opportunity to escape. She looked downright furious as Remy slid beside her and handed her a plate.

"What is all of this?" she muttered darkly. She was eyeing the plate as though she would have liked nothing better than to smash it over his head.

Remy did not seem fazed by her sour mood. "Food. And I suggest that you eat some, Cherie. The only thing you had to eat last night was a slice of wedding cake and a case of hard liquor."

"Whose wedding was it?" she snapped.

"Ours."

Rogue didn't think she heard him correctly. "Whose???"

Remy smiled serenely into her snarling face. "Ours. That is to say, yours and mine." When it still looked as though she didn't believe him, or didn't understand, he leaned in and nuzzled her ear. "We're married," he said in an as-a-matter-of-factly tone of voice.

So startled was she that she forgot about her initial inclination of punching him in the face. This was a nightmare. There was no way he could be telling the truth. No way in hell.

"Who decided that?" she growled, jerking away from him. "Besides, I'm only seventeen! Legally, I can't even _get _married for another year."

Remy produced a card from his sleeves so quickly that Rogue flinched. Then, realizing that this wasn't one of his exploding playing cards that he was so fond of, she cautiously took it from him. She found herself staring at a very realistic non-driver's license ID card. It listed her as being twenty-one.

"A fake ID? You made me a fake ID???"

"Indeed, I did."

"So, technically, that means this marriage isn't real. All I have to do is go to a courthouse somewhere and pull out a birth certificate."

"Cherie, we both know that you don't have one."

"You don't know that."

"Where would you possibly get any records of your birth? Do you honestly think Mystique gave birth to you in a hospital?"

Rogue went dead quiet as a smoldering rage filled her. How dare he bring up that…creature? How dare he? He knew how she felt about Mystique; he should understand just how sore of a subject it was with her. It was like this guy was begging to be killed in a slow, painful manner.

In anger, she turned her face away from him. She did not want him to see her blinking back those angry tears that were rapidly filling her eyes.

Remy's expression became slightly clouded. "Rogue?" he said softly.

"Screw you," she snapped. "I hate you. If this is real, then I want a divorce."

"No," he replied simply.

"Then let me go."

"No."

Letting out a quiet scream of frustration, Rogue kicked away the covers and stomped towards the nearest door—which just so happened to be the bathroom. Remy frowned and immediately went to follow her. He knew that if she beat him to the door he wouldn't be allowed in, and there was still the matter of business to attend to. As adorable as she was right now, she would just have to have her temper tantrum later, at a more appropriate hour.

Catching her by the arm, Remy pulled the furious young woman back to him. "Cherie, I haven't finished talking to you. Kindly, don't walk away from me."

"I don't care what you have to say," she snapped. "Let go of me!"

Remy sighed. Things weren't going the way he had planned, and this was starting to get tiresome. Still…she did look cute with that menacing scowl on her face. The sight of it made him smile.

"I can't let you go. Not until we take care of business and this honeymoon is over. Understood?"

Rogue stopped struggling for a moment to give him a venomous look. "What do you want with me?" she demanded quietly. "Why did you drag me here, get me drunk, and force me to marry you?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like I did something wrong."

There was a long, icy silence as she stared up into his eyes. Remy decided that it was best not to push his luck any further. If she got any angrier at him, it might just compromise his plans for today; something he couldn't afford to risk. Not now.

"Cherie," he said. "I admit that it was most ungentlemanly to snatch you from the comfort of your home on such short notice. Unfortunately, I didn't have much choice in the matter. This is a rather urgent situation."

She didn't say anything. It appeared as if she was trying to bore a hole into his brain with her eyes.

"Did someone hire you to capture me?" Rogue demanded bluntly. "Or is this about your father."

"No. This has nothing to do with Jean-Luc. What I'm doing involves only you and me."

"But _what_ is it exactly that you think you're doing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at the thief. "Knowing you, marrying me wasn't the only thing you had in mind when you brought me all the way to…to…" she trailed off as she looked uncertainly around the room again. "Where in the hell are we, anyway?"

He smirked. "I never told you? Why, Cherie, let me be the first to introduce you to the fine, fine city of Las Vegas."

* * *

Miles away, back at the Xavier Institute, an alarming discovery was being made.

It was no surprise to anyone when Rogue failed to show up at breakfast that morning—she was normally a late riser, and it was pretty typical for someone to go back upstairs and drag her down to the kitchen. If left to her own devices, she would probably sleep until noon and end up late for school.

Considering the girl's grade-point average it was clear she couldn't afford to miss too many of her classes, anyway. Making sure she actually made it to school was the least her surrogate family could do to make sure she got her diploma next year. At least, that was what they told themselves when they faced the dilemma of actually waking her up and facing her wrath.

"Come on, I did it yesterday," Kurt complained when Kitty attempted to bully him into the task.

"Yeah, but you're her brother," she argued. "She _has _to get along with you, Mystique being your mother and all, right?"

"You know she doesn't like to talk about that. Besides, just because we happen to be related doesn't mean that she won't try to hit me like last time!"

"Well, I'm not doing it! The last time I tried to wake up Rogue, she ended up touching me. I was unconscious and she had phased all the way into the mansion's ceptic tank! Do you think she was bouncing on her heels to thank me after we fished her out?"

Kurt shuddered. "You were lucky to escape with your life..."

As they were arguing over whose turn it was to do the dreaded deed, Logan happened to be coming down the stairs. Hearing their dispute, he heaved a sigh and stomped into the kitchen. Normally, he wouldn't get involved, but he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach when he woke up this morning. Something in the air seemed…different.

Normally, what Logan smelled as he walked around the Institute was a mixture of scents belonging to everyone who inhabited the place. If it was changed, it was either because someone was here who shouldn't have been…

…or someone had left.

"All right," he said slowly. "Just this once, I'll bite. What's going on?"

"We're trying to figure out who should go get Rogue. She's still not up yet."

Logan let out a low growl under his breath. "You know, the more time you waste arguing, the less time you'll have to get back to whatever it is you need to do before you leave. So I suggest you all suck it up and figure this out."

"Hey, I know," said Kurt. "Logan can do it. Rogue would _never _hit him; not unless she was suicidal or something."

"I wasn't volunteering, you know."

"Oh, please," Kitty begged, knotting her hands as she looked up at the older man. "You know how bad of a mood Rogue gets when she first wakes up. And we have to leave in less than twenty minutes!"

Logan considered it for a moment. "Fine," he grumbled. "But I'm not making a habit of this, understand?"

They nodded, looking vastly relieved. Shaking his head in annoyance, he turned around and trudged back upstairs. As he went, he noticed the odd scent again and didn't like it one bit. It was familiar, too. Sort of like tequila, only a bit more…human.

_Maybe it's a person with tequila in them, _he thought. He scowled at the thought. _Great. The last thing we need is for some of these idiots dipping into my private stash._ The only thing wrong with this picture was that Logan didn't drink tequila. He preferred regular beer.

So, someone must have smuggled some in somehow. Wonderful.

As Logan got closer to Rogue's room, he noticed that smell seemed to solidify into a definite cloud. He paused by the door and breathed in through the crack. Without a doubt, it seemed to be coming from inside the room.

_Rogue had better have a good explanation for this._

Clenching his hand into a fist, Logan pounded on the door. He waited for thirty seconds before knocking again. "Rogue," he barked. "Answer the door."

When he still didn't get any reply after that, he decided to unsheathe his claws. There was no way that she didn't hear him. His pounding was loud enough to wake up a swarm of molten lava monsters slumbering deep within the center of the Earth, practically. He figured she was ignoring him on purpose.

So, quite easily, he kicked in the door.

Logan expected to hear a scream, or possibly to catch sight of Rogue flinching out from beneath her covers as he stalked over the threshold. But that didn't happen. That was because the room was entirely empty.

_But it was locked from the inside, _he thought in confusion. Seconds later the scent returned in full force, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. He sniffed again, just to make sure there was no mistake.

"Gambit," he snarled under his breath.

* * *

"Las Vegas," said Rogue slowly.

"Yes."

"You mean _the _Las Vegas? The city that never sleeps?"

"I think you're mistaking this for Gotham City."

Rogue ignored his quip in the wake of this disturbing development. She stared, wide-eyed, at her bare feet, which seemed to stand out against the lush red carpet. It could not mean anything good if Remy was telling the truth about their current whereabouts. The city had its own rules, for crying out loud. They aren't kidding you when they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

"Why Las Vegas?" she asked, shooting him a suspicious look. "I mean, besides the fact that you can get married within thirty seconds' notice."

"What better place to get rich quick than the City of Riches?"

Rogue pulled away from him, disgusted. "So that's what this is about. Money! I should have known, you sneaky, conniving bastard." Folding her arms, she went to stand by the window. Of course, the shades were drawn, so she couldn't see outside. "And I suppose you want me to help you cheat and win a ton of cash."

Her hand was creeping towards the shades. Smoothly, Remy intercepted her, standing in her path.

"You catch on quickly. I'm impressed."

"What if I don't want to do this? What if I refuse?"

Remy shook his head from side to side. His smile was condescending and smug. "I don't think you will, Cherie."

"You sound so confident about that. How come?"

"Well," he said slowly. "Let's just say that I have an offer you can't refuse."

Remy caught her wrist seconds before she could bludgeon her fist into his ribcage. He tutted as he brought her hands in front of him, pausing to plant a kiss on the back of her gloved knuckle. Rogue grimaced in disdain.

"Look," she snapped, hoping fervently that she wasn't blushing, "it's bad enough that you went and kidnapped me. Do you have to go and be all cheesy on top of everything else?"

"A man in love will do crazy things sometimes," he replied.

"Don't start in with that bullshit. You don't care about me. You're just doing this for the money, you said so yourself."

Remy didn't say anything. He simply stared into her face, measuring the hate in her eyes.

"And this upsets you?"

"Don't be stupid."

"Good. Then you shouldn't feel too badly about the offer I'm about to make with you."

Rogue went quiet, turning to him with vague curiosity in her face. _This had better be good, you son of a bitch_, she thought as she regarded the shrewd expression on his face.

"I'm listening," she said.

Remy smiled. _Hook, line, and sinker. _"Good. Now about this marriage, I can see you're quite hostile about it. But what if I were to tell you that it's only temporary?"

"I'd say you're full of shit. That kind of thing doesn't fly. Not even in Las Vegas."

"True. Legally, we are husband and wife. No getting out of that unless you were to somehow escape my clutches and file for annulment or divorce; which quite frankly, is such a long messy process. It's a waste of both your time as well as mine."

"You should have thought of that before you pulled a stunt like this."

"Perhaps. But imagine how much smoother things will go if I were to give my consent for the annulment."

Rogue sighed. "Let me get this straight, then. If I help you with this heist you're planning, you'll cancel this marriage? And you'll leave me alone for good?"

"If that is what you want, then yes. I'll do that."

She considered this for a moment. If she said yes, then she'd be playing right into his hands, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. Plus, there was always the chance that he would go against his word. Rogue didn't trust Remy for a damn, not after everything that went down in Louisiana. And the fact that she hadn't seen him in at least six months…the fact that he didn't even bother to call or write, or even visit…

She shook her head. She did _not _care about that. Not anymore.

But if she said no, he probably wouldn't even let her out of their hotel room. She'd be his prisoner. At least if she was walking around the city, there was a better chance of her making a quick get-away should the need arise.

Then again, she could just leave right now. But as she went to remove her white gloves, Remy seemed to be watching her intently. She frowned at the look in his eyes. He seemed way too sure of himself. Maybe using her powers wasn't such a good idea.

Her hesitation seemed to be palpitating in the still air of the hotel room. Laughing quietly to himself, Remy closed the gap between them. There was nothing behind Rogue's back except for the wall, making it all too easy for him to capture her lips in his.

!!!

Rogue waited for the nauseating sensation that overwhelmed her whenever she was thrown headfirst into someone else's mind. But all she was aware of was this sense of alertness, this vitality that crawled through her body.

She realized that her powers _weren't _working a few seconds before this strange feeling overwhelmed her.

Her knees seemed to give way as Remy kissed her, but at this point his own body was pinning her to the wall, supporting her. Instinctively, her hands reached for his shoulders, trying to steady the rest of her in the wake of all these foreign emotions. She felt strangely elated and hated herself for it.

_Oh, hell no._

Mustering every ounce of dignity and self-restraint she had left, Rogue pushed Remy away from her. Without him holding her she collapsed onto the carpet, her breath coming out in shallow gasps. Her cheeks were flushed, but without a mirror there was no way for her to know that. It was probably a good thing too. Knowing that she was blushing would have only made things worse.

"What…what did you do to me…?" she demanded, her eyes wide and frightened as she stared up at him.

"I kissed you."

"Yeah, but why didn't it hurt you? My powers…why aren't they working?"

Remy seemed amused by her reaction. "Oh, they're working all right. All you need to know is that I figured out a way around them. Perhaps if you were to cooperate, I might let you in on the secret. Hmmm?"

Crap. This was _not _good. If he was telling the truth—and Rogue had no reason to doubt him after that blunt demonstration he had just given—she had just lost the only advantage she had against him. It also made things that much more confusing. What good was she to him without her powers?

"Oh, my God…" she whispered.

It was really very terrifying, being alone and powerless in a hotel room with someone like the Gambit. Rogue's hands were shaking as she hugged her arms to her sides, trying to rid herself of the goose bumps. What was she supposed to do without her powers? What did he _want _from her?

But, wait a minute. Remy didn't _say _that Rogue had lost her powers. He just said that he knew a way around them. _Like that's any better, _she thought bitterly.

"All right," she sighed, her voice flat in defeat. "I'll do it. It's not like I have much of a choice, do I…?"

"None whatsoever," he replied.

It was official. This was a nightmare. But then, that's what you get for waking up in Vegas.

* * *

**A/N: So, yeah, it's a blatant reference to the song "Waking Up in Vegas," by Katie Perry. Don't like it, not my problem. The story is the main deal, so…yeah. What did you think so far? As you can see, it is somewhat AU. I'm basically writing it under the premise that Rogue hasn't seen Remy since "Cajun Spice," and that this is the first time she has seen him in a long time. So, naturally, she isn't too thrilled to be married to him. **

**You can imagine how this is going to turn out, I hope.**

**This is the beginning of what will hopefully be a long, hilarious fanfiction, ladies and gentlemen. And before you guys start pointing red flags at me about Rogue's powers, let me reassure you with this: I thought everything through. Everything, from her powers not working to the constant power play you'll see between Remy and Rogue. Some parts will be serious, but I also promise lots of laughs.**

**If you enjoyed this, wait until you see what happens in Chapter Two, when the fun begins. Review now, or suffer my displeasure.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Putting the Pieces Together**

Rogue still couldn't believe it. In less than twenty-four hours one man had managed to turn her entire world upside down, and he had conned her into a very illegal get-rich-quick scheme to boot. The only question is, how? How could the man be so cunning, but so very stupid at the same time? Didn't he realize that it was only a matter of time before he had the rest of the X-Men on his tail?

But that was assuming they ever found out where they were. Considering that (as far as she knew) no one knew she had even gone, the chances of _that _happening were slim to none.

When Remy spoke to her, he was as gracious as an angel. But when he smiled, he looked more sinister than the devil himself. It reminded Rogue that as charming as the man was he was also very dangerous. She would have to watch her step around him, especially now that he could touch her.

Her eyes flew open. He could _touch _her.

From across the room Remy saw the stricken look in her eyes. The turmoil it stirred inside of him confused him. For a moment, his expression became closed off as he tried to sort through this foreign emotion. Somehow, while he found Rogue's fits of rage to be endearing, the presence of raw fear in her eyes set off a sour note deep within him. He didn't like it at all.

"Remy."

Her voice sounded like a clogged pipe. He wondered if all the yelling had hurt her voice.

"What is it?"

Something in her face was off. It was starting to worry him. Her complexion was pale now, her eyes looking inward as her imagination attempted to fill in the multiple blanks regarding last night. None of the images in her head were pleasant. She began to get sick to her stomach.

Rogue could sense him kneeling down beside her. As she slowly turned her gaze to meet his own, she was surprised to see something resembling concern on his face. But it did nothing to soothe the cold horror rising in her throat. One thought was quickly leading to another. After all, they were _married_.

"Last night…did we…?"

Immediately, Remy knew exactly what was troubling Rogue and was relieved that it wasn't anything serious. Not to him, anyway. He had been with plenty of women in his lifetime, and he knew well enough that sex, while very enjoyable in its own way, could not satiate him the way that cold hard cash could. As tempting as it was, it was not high up on his list of priorities.

He looked at her seriously. "Rogue. Do I look like the kind of a scoundrel that would take advantage of a young woman crippled under the influence of alcohol?"

"Yes, you do."

She didn't look at him. She kept her gaze on her hands. He had to say, her reaction hadn't been very encouraging. Other women would be much more enthused at the idea than she was. He didn't understand why that should bother him, but it did.

Besides, as far as he knew they had parted on relatively chummy terms back in Louisiana. He didn't think she'd be _this _hostile to seeing him again…even if it was against her will.

"I'm a thief," he said flatly. "Not a rapist. And I won't hurt you so long as you behave and don't give me a reason to have to defend myself."

This last part was uttered jokingly, but Rogue didn't notice. She was trying very hard not to look at him.

"I still don't believe you," she whispered.

Remy hesitated. After a minute, he decided to leave things where they lay.

"You don't have to," he said simply.

She watched with wary eyes as he stood up and went over to the armoire, reached inside and pulled out an acid green dress. Casually, he tossed it to her, giving her barely enough time to catch it before it could hit the floor.

"I suggest you dry those eyes and get dressed, Mon Amie. We have a long day ahead of us, and time is money."

Wishing that looks could kill, Rogue took the dress and rose to her feet like a rusty piece of machinery. She stalked past Remy and stomped into the bathroom, slamming it shut behind her. He had to say this much for her, the girl knew how to make an exit.

Regardless, he waited quietly for it. _3…2…1…_

BOOM!

The door was kicked nearly off its hinges as Rogue re-entered the room. Her face was livid as she stabbed an accusing finger at Remy. All of the fear and uncertainty had drained from her expression as rage and a hint of embarrassment took its place. Remy had to bite his lip and resist the urge to laugh.

"You…you…"

"Something wrong, Cherie?"

"You said nothing happened last night!"

"I did say that, didn't I?"

"Then what's this on my neck?" she demanded, beckoning towards a purpling mark on the edge of her collar bone. It was very obviously bruised by a determined pair of lips.

Remy shrugged. "I didn't sleep with you, but I never said I didn't kiss you, Cherie."

_And I certainly didn't tell you that you kissed me back. _

He didn't have to say it. The words were written quite plainly on his face. It made her even angrier than she already was. Making a noise of disgust, she turned on her heel and locked herself into the bathroom.

* * *

"Are you sure he took her, Logan?"

Professor Xavier regarded the other man seriously, his face tight with worry. Next to him, Hank and Ororo—Beast and Storm respectively—were tense. They were standing inside of Rogue's deserted bedroom, which was now in a state of disarray after a thorough search. As of yet, they had found no clues pointing towards her current whereabouts.

"I smelled him, Charles. He was here."

"You said the door was locked," said Hank, gripping the door and moving it gingerly on its hinges. There were obvious signs of it having been forced open.

Logan addressed that issue at once.

"I sort of did that to the door," he admitted a bit sheepishly...well, sheepishly for Logan. "Sorry about that."

It was clear to everyone in the room that he wasn't the least bit remorseful for his actions. It was pretty commonplace as far as Wolverine was concerned, especially whenever Rogue was involved. It was no secret that he cared about her very much.

_I'd hate to be the sorry asshole responsible for this, _thought Hank as he regarded Logan's tight expression. He facepalmed at the very thought.

"I thought you were going to show a bit more restraint on the doors after the last _accident_," he reminded him.

"That's hardly the point," said Storm in a clipped voice. "Rogue is missing, Hank."

Hank sighed. _Like any of us needed reminding._

Suddenly, Logan tensed up, his nostrils flaring from another scent in the air. He looked out towards the hallway and cursed under his breath.

"Hey, Chuck, I think you'd better wrap this up. I can smell Kitty coming up the stairs."

Professor X sighed. In the wake of this discovery, he wasn't quite ready to explain the dire situation to the other recruits. However, he knew it was only a matter of time before they caught on that something was wrong. He didn't want to keep secrets from his students, anyway; not unless their safety depended on it. And right now the only person who was in danger was Rogue.

Charles Xavier was always thinking about the well-being of the X-Men. "I'll head her off. In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if you would finish up in here."

"Of course," said Ororo.

The Professor nodded. "And Logan? Do you still have Gambit's scent?"

Logan clenched his hands into fists. "You bet I do. And as soon as we're done here, I plan on tracking them down."

"I would appreciate that. Only try to show a bit of...restraint. We want to find him, not kill him."

"Speak for yourself."

Professor Xavier chose to ignore the quiet death-threat. He trusted Wolverine enough not to go against his orders. Not without a very, very good reason. He turned his wheelchair towards the door and headed out into the hallway moments before Logan headed towards the garage to suit up.

It did not take him long to find Kitty Pryde, who was en-route to Rogue's room at that very minute. She had come to see if the somewhat anti-social girl wanted to catch a ride with them to school and was surprised to see the Professor. Usually he was in his study at this hour.

"Um...good morning, Professor," she said, smiling at him. "I didn't expect to see you here."

The Professor smiled at Kitty, but there was a serious look to his eyes that made her pause.

"Well, normally I wouldn't be, but something has...come up."

Immediately, Kitty sensed that something was wrong. She just wasn't sure what it was.

"What happened?"

"That's precisely what we're trying to figure out," said Charles. "Kitty, I need you to tell the others that Rogue won't be joining you today, and that they are to come home directly after school for an emergency meeting."

"But…I don't understand…what's going on, Professor…? Is Rogue okay?"

"I'll explain everything later. Right now, you need to get to school. Go on, now."

Uncertainly, Kitty nodded. Biting her lip, she turned on her heel and went back downstairs. Professor Xavier watched her go with something akin to regret in his heart. He wished he could avoid having her worry, but telling her more would only increase her anxiety over the situation.

He barely noticed Hank come up from behind him.

"Well, we definitely know that Rogue was kidnapped. There looks like there were signs of a struggle, but...well, you saw that for yourself."

"Thank you, Hank. I'm going to be in Cerebro for the rest of the afternoon. With luck, I might be able to track Gambit or Rogue in there. But..."

"I know. It wouldn't be a good thing if they were using their powers."

There was a long silence.

"So...Logan's handling this pretty well, I think."

The Professor shook his head. "You weren't reading his mind. I can assure you, once he gets his hands on Gambit...it won't be pretty."

On that uneasy note, he took his leave.

* * *

It was around two o' clock Las Vegas time when Remy emerged from the lobby of the Luxor Hotel with Rogue on his arm. She didn't want to touch him, but his instructions had been pretty clear. They had to go through all the appearances of being a newlywed couple. This meant, at the very least, holding hands.

"I'm not saying you have to kiss me, Cherie. Any PDA will do for now. But make it look good."

She hated him as they strode up the block together, hated the way his arm was casually slung around her waist—a possessive reminder of who was in charge. How she would have loved to knee him in the groin and make a run for it, but then…

…well…Rogue really wanted that annulment.

"What do you think?" Remy asked as they came up to another hotel. It was the Excalibur. She raised a skeptical eyebrow at the castle, wondering what could possibly make the suave young thief want to stop here, of all places. Shouldn't he be checking out that hotel that looked like the Eiffel Tower?

But then, he'd be doing what she expected him to do, and throughout the day he seemed determined to surprise her. The only analogy Rogue could think of was a guy desperate to impress the girl he liked on their first date; only she had a feeling that this had more to do with lulling her into a false sense of security than sweeping her off her feet.

"It's a bit hokey," she told him. "All that junk about knights in shining armor…and I was never into the whole King Arthur thing."

"I'm more interested in the casino, myself," he agreed. But he turned to her, interest stirring in his scarlet eyes. "You're not much of a romantic, are you? Don't you know the legend involving King Arthur, his Queen Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot?"

"What? It's just some stupid love triangle, right? I've seen enough of that in bad preteen fanfiction."

"Fair enough. Let's go inside, shall we?"

Remy steered Rogue past the doors and into the lobby. Greeting them at the entrance was a sculpture of a lavender dragon bearing a large sign: Welcome to Excalibur. It took them only a few minutes to navigate through the lobby, dodging waves of tourists, bellboys, and screaming children.

"Hey, mister," a boy yelled, planting himself in their path. "You got any quarters? I want to go to the arcade downstairs, but my mom won't give me any change."

Rogue reached into her clutch, wondering if by any stroke of luck there was any money in there. If so, she might be able to use a pay-phone to collect call the Institute when she wasn't being watched like a hawk. But Remy put his hand around her wrist and shook his head no.

"Sorry."

The boy narrowed his eyes at Remy in dislike. He clearly wasn't a stupid child. He had seen the way he had stopped Rogue from giving him any money. Persistently, he edged closer to the couple.

"What's with your eyes?" he asked rudely. "Why are they like that?"

Rogue could see that Remy, while not accustomed to losing his temper, was becoming impatient with the boy.

"It's none of your business. Please move."

"Give me a quarter, and then I'll move."

Remy shrugged. Casually, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. To Rogue's alarm, it was emitting orange sparks, a clear indication of one of his signature explosions. The boy stared at the coin in amazement.

"Wow! How did you do that?"

"Magic. Since you look like such a bright young man, I know you can see that this is a very special coin..."

"Remy," she said warningly. "Don't."

He ignored her.

"I can give it to you, if you want. But you have to stand way over there," Remy pointed across the room, towards what looked like the entrance to the buffet area. "I'll throw it to you…unless you think you can't catch it."

"I can catch it just fine," the boy replied stoutly.

"Good. Let's see."

The child went away as fast as his legs could carry him. Nodding in satisfaction, Remy swiftly pocketed the coin and took Rogue by the arm, steering her away, towards the casino. "He's distracted," he explained to her. "Let's go before he realizes he's been tricked."

Her jaw dropped.

"For a moment, I thought you were going to blow up the lobby. Knowing you, you'd be crazy enough to actually do it."

"And what would that accomplish?"

Then, he lowered his tone of voice as he spoke to her. To anyone passing by, it would look as though he were a young man murmuring words of love into her ear.

"We're trying to look like a normal couple of newlyweds. If I went around doing things like that, I'd be drawing attention to the fact that we're mutants. And believe me when I tell you that you don't want that to happen."

"What? Mutants don't go on vacation?"

"Let's just say that Las Vegas is a dangerous place for our kind, Cherie. Keep that in mind, will you?"

Remy straightened up as he surveyed the room. As far as the eye could see, people were hounding slot machines and crowding tables. There was the faint stench of cigarettes in the air as cards were turned by the quick, mercurial hands of the dealers. Groans mingled with cheers.

"This looks promising," he said brightly.

Rogue could barely stop herself from rolling her eyes.

* * *

"I managed to track their scent to the airport. After I got inside, security got in the way, but it didn't matter. With all of those people, the trail went cold."

"Thank you, Logan," the Professor sighed. He began massaging the bridge of his nose feverishly. "Hank, do you think you can get in contact with Airport Security?"

"I doubt that they'll tell _me _anything. But I can try."

Professor Xavier nodded. "Good. Well, we've made some progress, anyway. We now know that Mr. LeBeau has taken Rogue out of the state. Possibly out of the country, though I doubt that this is the case. I managed to get faint traces of Rogue's brainwaves on Cerebro. I also detected Gambit after he used his powers to a small extent. I think they're somewhere in Nevada."

"Nevada?" Logan growled. "What the…?" He stared at the floor as his mind quickly tried to connect the dots, tried to find the relation between the state of Nevada, Gambit, and Rogue.

"Why only faint?" Ororo asked, looking worried. "Is she all right?"

"She may have been unconscious for a while. But she's definitely alive. That much I know for certain."

Suddenly, Wolverine let out a low growl. His hands were clenched into fists as he turned towards the others.

"Las Vegas."

Hank frowned. "What did you say?"

"He took Rogue to Vegas, Hank. Think about it. Remy is a fiend with those exploding cards of his. It's his signature. We also know he likes money and lots of it. The only place in Arizona I can think of with enough cash to catch his eye is—"

"Of course," Hank finished grimly. "You do have a point. It's likely that he wanted to use Rogue's powers to cheat the dealers…or have her steal their gambling ability so he can run his own ring."

"I don't think that's his only motive," said Professor Xavier. "I don't think it was just money that brought Gambit to Las Vegas. Not in a long shot."

"Charles, do you know something?"

Professor Xavier sighed heavily as he met Logan's gaze. Wolverine nodded, understanding the dark look on his mentor's face. It spoke of a far more serious matter than the abduction of one of his students. And considering how precious each and every person in the Institute was to him that said quite a lot.

"Have you heard the rumors about what happens to mutants in Las Vegas?"

Hank and Ororo looked grim. They didn't say anything. They didn't have to.

"Glad to see you understand," Logan grumbled. "We'd better find those two before someone else does."

* * *

Rogue was in a bad mood. She had been suspicious when Remy had let her have a thousand dollars to play the room, and was frustrated when she realized that he would be watching her the entire time. He wasn't stupid; he definitely didn't want to leave her alone with that much cash.

Feeling bitter, she consented to the transaction, exchanging large bills for red and black poker chips. Remy gave her a gentle push towards the tables, leaning against the cash-out station pointedly. She wouldn't be able to get any money without him knowing about it.

_Well, I'm in a Casino. I may as well have some fun._

Rogue tried her hand at some blackjack, with mixed results. She clearly wasn't a gambling prodigy, and wished that she hadn't made that promise to Remy that she wouldn't use her powers. She was sorely tempted to take some of the chutzpah out of the people who actually knew what they were doing.

But part of her was still wondering what Remy had meant by that cryptic comment about Las Vegas being dangerous for mutants. She didn't want to find out the hard way.

By the time the sun started to set, Rogue had lost most of her money. Dejected, she found Remy where she had left him and stuffed the poker chips in his hands. There wasn't too many of them, so he held on to them quite easily.

"You could have helped, you know," she told him.

"I played on my own, for a while, when you were engaged at the roulette table. How much did you win?"

"Nothing. In fact, I lost about five hundred dollars."

Remy looked pleased for some reason. "That's very good, Cherie. Some people don't leave a casino without having to forfeit their shoes at the door."

"I suck at this. Why didn't you just kidnap Jean or someone who could read the dealer's mind? You'd win a hell of a lot easier that way."

"But that would draw attention to ourselves. Remember, we want to blend in before we attempt anything significant."

Rogue shook her head. "Whatever."

"Besides," Remy added, looping his arm through hers. "It wouldn't be nearly as much fun if it wasn't you, Rogue."

Her heart skipped a beat when he said her name. She hated herself for it.

She fumed silently as they left the casino. To her relief, he didn't force her to stay in the unbelievably cheesy Excalibur, and consented to get dinner somewhere Rogue actually wouldn't mind being caught dead in. After dining on some fine Cajun cuisine—though not quite as good as the jambalaya she had tasted last Mardi Gras—Remy treated her to a luscious dessert of chocolate mousse. Typical for the French guy, but she had to give him credit. He knew good food.

In fact, Remy was being so nice to her that she almost forgot that she had been kidnapped in the first place. But in light of everything she knew, she was very careful not to accept the wine he ordered unless she uncorked it herself. She didn't want him spiking her drink.

_Come to think of it, how did he get me drunk in the first place? What happened when I got taken away…? Wasn't I asleep?_

Rogue tried harder to remember. She didn't want to accept the very real possibility that she may never actually figure out how Remy got to her or how he had conned her into this stupid marriage. It was frightening enough without the holes in her memory.

She figured that it didn't hurt to ask.

"Out of curiosity," she told him, "What happened when you first…um…came to get me? I was asleep, I know that much. And I'm a pretty light sleeper, I should have heard you coming."

Remy looked at her over the rim of his wine glass. "Does it matter how I got in?"

"I want to know."

"Well, since you insisted, Cherie, I'll tell you. As a matter of fact, you let me in."

Rogue nearly toppled her glass over, she was so surprised. "Excuse me? I _let _you in? Why would I ever do something stupid like that?"

"I'm not quite sure. I was pretty hosed myself, you know."

He admitted this lightheartedly, as though it were as commonplace as the weather. Rogue, on the other hand, nearly blew an artery when she heard this. _Drunk? He was DRUNK?!? _She was so disturbed by this development that she was actually quivering in her chair. Remy seemed to find it amusing.

"Your lips are turning white."

"You were _drunk_…?"

"Yes, I do believe I said that." Remy smiled fondly into his wine glass, swirling its contents with the eye of a connoisseur. "I remember, vaguely, wanting to see you that night. And I might have climbed in through the window you left open…"

_Well, I guess I've learned _my _lesson, _Rogue thought darkly.

"…you woke up almost immediately. I think I surprised you more than anything else. You were trying to reason with me. You told me to go home before I ended up hurting myself."

"Well, that was that was stupid of me."

Remy laughed at Rogue's sulky expression. "Don't take it so hard, Cherie. It was actually very kind of you, under the circumstances. Anyway, we were struggling—I think you got fed up with small talk and tried to push me out the window—and you ended up touching me by accident. It was like magic. My head completely cleared, but you…well…"

"I ended up drunk myself, right?"

"Just like magic," Remy repeated. "I could think again, I knew where I was and what I was doing. But then I realized what a golden opportunity had fallen into my lap. So, I took it. I am a thief, after all."

"I still can't believe you were _drunk _when you kidnapped me_. _You're such an idiot."

"Ouch," he said sarcastically. "That really hurts coming from you, Cherie."

Remy didn't seem particularly ruffled by her statement, but something in her tone had rubbed him the wrong way. His brow furrowed in a mild ripple of annoyance. He had viewed that night as an act of luck and cunning, but she was making him out to be a fool. He didn't like that.

Not that he felt any remorse about what he did. Remy was very rarely sorry for anything he did or said. That's probably why he said what he did next.

"Might I point out that I only_ kidnapped_ you when I was drunk. _You_, on the other hand, consented to _marry _me."

Rogue's nostrils flared indignantly. Was he really going to go there, after everything he had done? "_You _were the one who brought us to the stupid chapel!" she snapped, throwing her napkin on the table.

"I stand by what I said."

They scowled at each other for a few minutes, and in the tense silence that followed the waiter came over with the check. Smoothly, Remy tipped the man on the spot, paid the bill, and rose stiffly from the table. Rogue followed suit.

"You're such an asshole, you know that?"

"And you're too easy."

She made to stomp on his toe, but Remy knew her well enough by now to see it coming. He easily sidestepped and caught her by the arm. Firmly, but not too roughly, he brought her closer to him and stared into her eyes.

"Remember, Cherie. We're newlyweds, and I suggest you play your part because the annulment you want so badly depends on it."

Rogue met his gaze evenly, hatred smoldering in her eyes. She would make him pay for this; maybe not now, but soon. Over her dead body would she let him get away with this hellish plot of his and getting her involved in it.

_Then he'll wish he had never even met me, let alone married me._

* * *

**A/N: So the X-Men are starting to work out the details at the same time Rogue is. I always wanted to write a mystery where both the heroes and the villains have to figure things out for themselves. It makes it easier to write the characters when you leave them to their own devices, like this. **

**Seriously, have you ever had the problem where you try to write a story, but you know the characters would never say or do a certain thing, and then the whole thing falls apart because of it? **

**While I planned out the basic plot points and conditions of the story (you know, like why Rogue's powers aren't working—a MAJOR plot point which hasn't been revealed to you yet), leaving enough flexibility for Remy and Rogue to interact naturally makes the story flow a lot easier. And their personalities really come through with this kind of writing. Letting them do the talking avoids the issue of forcing them into a plot bubble.**

**Does anyone understand what I mean? Anyone at all?**

**Anyway, see the button at the bottom of the screen? The one that says REVIEW? Try clicking it. If you do, a magical pixie will appear and bury you in your weight of chocolate and gratitude from the author of this humble fanfiction.**

**Yeah, you heard me. Review, goddamn it!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: It's Not Just a Matter of Cashing Out**

Rogue had made up her mind the moment they had gotten back to their hotel suite. Having been treated like nothing less than the pawn that she so clearly was for the past several hours, and having had quite enough of Remy's oh-so-smug attitude to last her a lifetime, she decided that she was going to escape. As soon as possible.

The Gambit calmly removed his coat and tossed it onto the ornate sofa after he had locked the door behind him. Rogue watched intently as he pocketed the keys.

"Don't even think about it," was all he had to say to her.

She scowled as he walked past her and went into the bedroom. The way he acted, she may as well have been a wad of gum stuck to his shoe. What was up with that, anyway? Rogue knew that Remy LeBeau was a scoundrel, plain and simple. But usually he was much more charming, much more...talkative. That was when it hit her that Remy hadn't said much of anything to her in about an hour.

Frowning, she got up and followed him into the bedroom. Remy was shuffling his deck, not even sparing Rogue a glance as she edged closer. Feeling a stab of annoyance, she sank down on to the bed next to him, watching him turning over cards in an irritatingly absent-minded manner.

_What's with him?_

"Is there a problem, Rogue?"

She just blinked at him. "Yeah," she said. "There's a problem. You."

He looked up at her, and Rogue noticed for the first time the traces of weariness in his face. Back in the casino he had made a point to seem confident, yet carefree. Now, it was like he just didn't give a damn. Maybe because there wasn't anybody he was trying to fool...or anyone worth fooling. He simply stared at Rogue as though to say, _and your point is?_

"Well...say something."

"Like what?"

"Why are you being so weird? What's wrong with you?"

That blank look was really starting to unnerve her. It made her think back to what he had told her earlier, about how he had been drunk when he showed up at the Institute. To her best of knowledge, Remy wasn't in the habit of drinking himself stupid and half-blind--which he had to have been if he was dumb enough to kidnap her in the first place. So what had made him do it?

Then there was this so-called heist. So far he hadn't told her a single detail about it. The only thing they had accomplished all day was spending a whole lot of money that they didn't need to spend in the first place. He didn't even try to pick anybody's pocket.

It was as though his heart just wasn't in it anymore. Since when was Remy LeBeau _this _jaded...?

"Nothing is wrong," Remy replied. "Go to bed."

"I can't. You're sitting on it."

Rogue had half-expected him to make some witty and somewhat provokative comeback. But all he did was move over to the chair. He didn't stop shuffling his deck. It worried her to see him turning the cards so quickly, as though searching for something that he had lost. Those cards may as well have been blank for all it mattered.

"Remy..."

He looked up at her. "Cherie?"

"Why did you _really _bring me here?"

There was a long silence.

"Remy, what's going on? Why won't you tell me?"

There was now a fierce note a frustration in her voice. Remy was surprised to hear any hint of concern out of her, considering her general attitude about him since she had woken up this morning. But that wasn't what was bothering him--oh, it bothered him, but it wasn't the main thing pressing against his mind, haunting his thoughts when he wasn't distracting himself with the redhead beside him.

"It's nothing you need to get involved in. I shouldn't have brought you here, anyway."

"Well, it's too late for that, you jerk. I'm here now. We're married. So fess up. What's going on?"

He winced. Damn, she was stubborn, but why did she have to sound so reasonable at the same time? With a sign, he realized that someone had to give. And it wasn't going to be Rogue, that much was obvious.

"Tough times, Cherie. But that's nothing you need to get mixed up in. I will tell you that family relations haven't been so good, lately. My old man finally kicked the bucket, and the Thieves Guild has been…divided in their opinions towards me."

Rogue didn't know if she should be sympathetic or not. "Jean-Luc is dead?"

"Undeniably."

"How'd he die?"

There was only a split-second's hesitation.

"The way most thieves die, Rogue. They either get caught or they get stabbed in the back by one of their own. Considering how…_close _our family is, and how there isn't a single honest man in the Thieves Guild, it's a miracle he didn't die sooner."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He got what he deserved."

Neither of them said anything for a long time.

"You know," said Rogue. "That's kind of what I told myself about Mystique after I pushed her off of that cliff. I knew she never really cared about me and that the only thing that made her my mother was DNA. But that didn't make it hurt any less when she betrayed me…or when I betrayed her."

Remy didn't say anything. He just watched her with cautious eyes, as though trying to figure something out about what she said. "Shrewd," he finally muttered. "I guess there's something to that isn't there?"

He got up and made to go into the next room. But something Rogue said made him stop dead in his tracks.

"Is that why you had been drinking that night?"

Remy stiffened. "I assume you mean the night I brought you here."

"Yeah."

"It's none of your business."

Rogue bristled at that. "None of my business? Remy, I woke up in Vegas this morning. You have a flying fuck of a lot of nerve telling _me _that it's none of my business...!"

"Rogue--"

"I can't believe that you would even say something like that to me! After everything I've ever done to help you! Haven't you gotten it through your thick head that I--"

"Just leave it alone," Remy snapped in a voice she had never heard him use before.

He sounded so cold, so brittle that it actually cowed her for a moment or two. She couldn't believe that the man in front of her was the same person who had strolled with her down the sidewalks of New Orleans, the same man who bought her trust with a plate of jambalaya and some shtick about freedom. The same man who flirted shamelessly with her, the man she had dared to call a friend. _This _was Remy LeBeau?

No way.

Disgusted, Rogue strode over to him and glared right up into his scarlet eyes. "Give me one good reason why I should leave it alone."

"Like I said, it's none of your business."

"It _is _my business, you stupid jerk! We're friends, aren't we?"

He looked at her solemnly. "Are we, Rogue?"

Rogue couldn't believe any of this. She couldn't believe that he was being so stubborn, so distant, so freaking close-lipped! In New Orleans, they couldn't run out of things to talk about, but now...he just wasn't talking at all. What had changed? Why did it hurt so much?

Blinking back tears that she only just noticed were stinging her eyes, she did the only thing that popped in her head. She felt so angry, so confused and bewildered by the situation, she simply slapped Remy across the face.

Rogue only realized she wasn't wearing gloves after she felt the overwhelming mind lurch that accompanied her absorption abilities. And considering the fact that Remy was _supposed _to be immune to said abilities, she was VERY surprised, indeed, when the man dropped like a ton of bricks.

But she only half-saw it. She was too riveted by the images flashing through her brain to understand what had happened.

_Two men faced each other, and one of them obviously was Remy. The other was the slouchy, leering Jean-Luc, calmly staring his adopted son in the eyes as he yelled at him. Rogue couldn't hear a word Remy was saying, but he seemed livid. She barely saw the flash of pain and desperation in his scarlet eyes before the scene changed again._

_Remy, sitting in an empty boxcar of a train, staring blankly at the deck of cards in his hands. Rogue saw rust-colored splotches on his clothes, that his characteristically steady hands were shaking. The thief swore venomously in the darkness of the night and reached into his pocket for a cigarette. As he lit it up, the deck slipped out of his hands and scattered around on the floor of the boxcar. Staring him in the face was the Queen of Hearts._

_Then, all of a sudden, Rogue was watching Remy watching her through her window. She could feel what Remy was feeling--displaced anger, grief, confusion, and longing. She knew now how lost and empty he felt in the pit of his stomach. Something terrible had happened, and somehow he had expected the sight of his Cherie to somehow give him respite from his inner turmoil. Seeing her usually gave him answers. Everytime he learned something about Rogue, he learned something about himself, it seemed. But all he felt as he stared at the sleeping girl was distance. He belonged to a world separate from hers, a world of lies and theft, of discord and murder. _

_He needed a drink._

Rogue staggered backwards, gasping for breath as the tide thinned. The images were fading now, and she could see Remy slumped over on the floor of the hotel, unconscious. But she could barely make out his blurry form because the tears made it hard to see him. She sank to her knees, biting back her panic as she tried to figure out what had happened. It took her a minute to remember who she was and where she was.

"What...?" she murmured, clutching her head, which was starting to pound with questions. She remembered with a start that Remy supposedly knew a way around her powers. It was the whole reason why she hadn't simply knocked him out from the get-go and made a run for it. He should not have been absorbed. So...why? Why did it happen?

Why did it have to happen now?

Rogue tried, and failed, to figure out what it was about now that was different from this morning? Had she changed? Or had Remy? Try as she might, the answer continued to elude her. But that seemed to pale in comparison to the jarring realization that now--right now--she could escape if she wanted to.

Remy was dead to the world. He would not notice if she took the hotel keys out of his pocket. If she hurried, she could be packed and in a cab to the nearest airport within fifteen minutes...maybe less. By the time he woke up, she would be long gone from here. She could go home, and Remy...Remy would be all alone again.

Wasn't that what she wanted?

Rogue had called herself his friend. She wasn't about to deny that she was worried about him, especially in the wake of all his strange behavior. Up until now, she had assumed that Remy was just being an asshole when he took her away. She had assumed that he was using her for some stupid plan to get rich, and that when it was over he would simply dump her back at the Institute with another batch of memories she wish she could have forgotten in the wake of his absence. Not once did it ever occur to her that Remy never had a plan. Not once did she think that Remy LeBeau could ever be desperate, lost, or uncertain about anything.

Not once did Rogue suspect that the reason Remy brought her along with him was because he _needed _her...not until now. But why? What had happened?

After two minutes had passed, she still couldn't make sense of what she had seen in his head. But she suspected that a lot of what was going on had to do with the late Jean-Luc. Remy might just be stumbling in the wake of grief. He might not even want to acknowledge that he was grieving, and was acting out in this bizarre way. Could Rogue really just abandon him at a time like this?

Well, considering what he put her through so far...

No. Rogue was still feeling conflicted. But her gaze shifted to the nightstand and caught sight of the hotel phone sitting there, innocently. She bit her lip, realizing that if she was going to do something, she had better do it now.

She knew nothing about time zones, but that didn't stop her from wondering if Logan was still awake...maybe he'd have some answers for her.

* * *

"So Rogue was…kidnapped?"

The question was put forth tentatively by Jean. The entire X-Men team had gathered in the Cerebro room immediately after school let out, having been alarmed by Kitty's claims that something had "happened" to Rogue. However, once the Professor had gotten around to explaining just where she had wound up and, more importantly, who had taken her, they were…to say the least, skeptical.

Logan sighed. He knew that this was going to happen.

"Gambit came in through her window in the middle of the night. Rogue's gone, and she didn't take anything with her. There were signs of a struggle. So, yes, I'm pretty sure she was kidnapped."

The telepath blushed. She quickly exchanged a knowing look with Scott. "Sorry," she said. "It's just that…well…"

Logan stared the redhead down. "What?"

Jean didn't seem to be able to find the right words, but fortunately she didn't have to. Scott put a hand on her shoulder and scowled challengingly at Wolverine. "Come on, Logan," he snapped. "You know how Rogue feels about Gambit. Leave Jean alone."

Kurt, from the side, scowled in annoyance. He wasn't happy about Gambit leaving town with his sister, whether he had her consent or not. After Remy had kidnapped her the first time, he was all prepared to punch his face in if Logan hadn't got to him first. And only an idiot would have missed the heated interaction between them—Remy's blatant flirtations and Rogue's no-but-I-mean-yes response.

A good brother would have pushed the man back into the swamp and let the gators have at him. But Kurt had hesitated, his underlying fear of upsetting Rogue tainting his common sense. And then it was too late. Remy was striding off into the foggy night, leaving her to stare after him with only the faintest hints of stars in her eyes. She wouldn't stop studying the Queen of Hearts in her hands—and what was up with that, anyway?

Kurt remembered better than anyone how long it took for her to put that card down. Weeks had passed with no word from the smooth-talking thief, and Rogue's expression became increasingly jaded. If it weren't for Apocalypse eating up her attention, she probably would have realized the truth sooner. Remy LeBeau had played her; not once, but twice.

At least, that was how Kurt saw it.

"Look, if you're saying that they eloped or something, then you're crazy," he told Scott. "Rogue may have liked Gambit once, but she's not stupid. Do you really think she'd willingly go with him after he walked out on her?"

"Either way," Logan cut in as Scott opened his mouth to reply, "Rogue is in very dangerous territory. We need to get her back before something happens to her."

That distracted Kurt for a moment. "What's so dangerous about Las Vegas?" he asked.

"A lot of things that you kids would be better off not knowing about. And let me make this clear to you right now. This is not a vacation. We're on a rescue mission. If I think for a second that any of you will break ranks or cause problems, I'm sending your butts home immediately."

Logan glared at them all in turn. He hadn't wanted to take a team with him. He had simply wanted to ride in, find Rogue, and get the hell out of town. But Charles just _had _to tell those damn kids what was going on. And now none of them were going to let him leave them behind. If he so much as tried to go off on his own, he knew that they would just follow in the X-Jet, make a huge scene, and ruin everything.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

"Now, because there are so many of you, taking one of the vans is out of the option," said Hank, stepping forward. "It would also take too long to reach the city. However, since stealth is our objective, we can't just take the X-Jet. So you'll be flying commercially..."

Logan winced. _Another _reason why he had wanted to go alone. The thought of being on a public airplane with these oddballs for some number of hours was about as appealing as a trip to the dentist knowing you were going to get a tooth pulled. And taking the X-Jet would have been bad enough. Since they were relying on public transportation, it meant that the large blue furry Beast would have to remain behind.

"Now, don't worry, Logan," Hank said comfortingly. "Ororo said she'd be coming along."

Not that this was much better. Logan privately thought that Storm was too soft on the kids. Hell, she was too soft on everyone. Just the other day he had tried—and failed—to convince her to let him install poison gas in the ventilation shafts to beef up security, and she had just given him this _look._

Logan would have thought that Ororo would have wanted the little monsters to be safe. He would have thought that she would have wanted the intruders eliminated quickly and humanely rather than having to deal with the messy aftermath that would inevitably follow if _he _had to get involved. But nooooooooo.

Maybe if the poison gas _had _been installed, he wouldn't be dealing with this crap right now. Instead, he'd be dumping Gambit's body in the trash compactor. He'd have a word with Storm later.

Kitty's voice cut into Logan's internal rant. "Um…like, why are you guys so worried about not being seen, anyway? Gambit's bound to know that we'll come after him."

"It's not Gambit I'm worried about," Logan growled. As far as he was concerned, Gumbo was as good as fish bait once he got his hands on him. "Like I said, Las Vegas is a dangerous place for mutants. There have been some nasty rumors about human trafficking over the last ten years. Considering all the anti-mutant propaganda lately, it's no surprise that many mutants flocked to anyplace they thought they could blend in. And let's just say that there are some powerful people in Las Vegas who were willing to take advantage of that."

"And he took my _sister _there?" Kurt exclaimed in horror. "That son of a…"

"Ahem," Hank coughed. "We have no reason to believe that Rogue is in any danger yet. Possibly, no one knows that she's even in the city. But if the X-Men are seen flying into town, it's going to raise a few questions."

"So public transportation it is," Logan concluded grimly. "Pack your things. We leave in two hours."

Everyone started murmuring to each other, but no one wanted to risk the wrath of the clearly irate Wolverine by lingering to gossip. Kurt let Kitty drag him away, scowling darkly and muttering under his breath in German.

"Kurt, it's, like, Las Vegas. Chances are Rogue probably _did _elope with Remy. I think it's cute."

The teleporting mutant stopped muttering and gave Kitty an incredulous look. "It is _not _cute! I'm telling you, she's in grave danger…!"

"The elf is right," Logan snapped. "The chances of Stripes marrying Gumbo are slim to none."

Suddenly, the cell phone in Wolverine's pocket began to vibrate. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he plucked out the gadget and checked the caller I.D. Then, he did a double-take. The area code was from another state.

"Hold on a sec'," he barked at the gawking duo. Savagely, he flipped open the phone. "Hello?"

_"Logan?_"

"Rogue? Is that you?"

Kurt and Kitty exchanged significant glances as Logan turned his back on them. He was listening intently to the girl's voice on the other end of the extension. Occasionally he cut in to ask curt questions, but Rogue seemed to be in a bad mood. She just kept going on and on.

Then, she must have told Logan something he didn't like because he cursed like a sailor.

"What do you mean you're _married_…?" he snarled quietly.

"Told you," said Kitty triumphantly, leaving a dumbfounded Kurt behind as she headed off towards her room. She couldn't wait to tell the others.

Logan, on the other hand, was fuming.

"You were _what_? Drunk? How the hell—?"

Kurt shook his head from side to side, as though he were trying to shake water out of his pointed ears. He couldn't have heard that correctly. But Logan was not deaf, and he doubted the phone reception was _that _bad.

"I can't believe it…" he murmured. The world as he knew it had ceased to exist, plain and simple.

* * *

**A/N: A much shorter chapter, I know, and not much humor here. But considering everything we find out, it may as well be ten pages long, right? A lot of plot bunnies to keep you guys guessing about what will happen next. Will Rogue leave Remy? What will Logan say in the wake of his...um...unexpected discovery of Rogue's marriage? What will happen when the X-Men try to get through airport security? All of this and more in the next chapter. Hopefully it will be much more fluffy than this was.**

**Did you guys like this? Is Remy's behavior more plausible now that we see part of what's bothering him? Review, please, and I will be a very happy mongoose. ^-^**


	4. AN:

Hey Everybody,

This is, unfortunately, not actually Distant-Moon. As you've probably guessed, that doesn't bode well for an update. And you'd be right. Distant-Moon doesn't have access to a computer right now, let alone the internet, so she asked me (Hey, how you doin'?) to let everybody know that she probably won't be able to update until September.

That doesn't mean she's not scribbling away frantically in a notebook even now, she just can't put anything up. So please excuse her hiatus and enjoy your summer, she'll be back as soon as she can.


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